The Mousetrap
by disneychic248c
Summary: When Greg Sanders goes to investigate a crime scene, he finds himself in a tight situation. Can he escape alive? The only way to find out is read. [finished and sequel in the works]


So there is a little class project me and my best friend Lizzie made. We figured to upload it here, for your enjoyment. Happy Reading!

It seem like only five minutes of sleep to Greg Sanders. The sound of his cell phone going off shot through his head like that of a baseball hitting a metal bat. Greg sat up with a sigh and grumbled. His spiky blonde stripped hair looked like a sheep dog's fur. He fumbled for his phone on the desk a few feet from his queen sized bed, then he picked up the phone and put it to his ear with a huff. His voice was soft and tried as he spoke into it.

"C.S.I Sanders here." He huffed more as the sound of what sounded like his boss's voice filled his head, like a swarm of buzzing bees. He sighed deeply into the phone as he was told that there was a homicide to be investigated. "I'll be there as soon as I can". He said, into the phone with a sigh.

With a flick of his wrist he snapped his phone shut. He got up like a slug claiming a mailbox; he was in no hurry to get anywhere. It was a dead body, it was not going anywhere. Greg marched slowly to his bathroom with a grim look on his face. He flicked on the light and stepped forward to the small white marble sink. He tried to watch the sleepiness from his eyes. It was six in the morning, he only got home from work an hour ago and was all ready being called back in. Greg put on fresh clothes and fixed his hair. He grabbed his keys and walked to his car, then Greg hopped in then drove off.

The drive was not long, because it only takes him about forty-five minutes to get to the place. As Greg got out of the car, he wondered where everyone was. All he saw was one cop car and nothing or no one else. He thought it was weird but shrugged it off. A cop was standing near the car. Greg got out and walked over to him. He sighed when he saw who the cop was, an officer never got along. Greg did not want this cop working with him tonight of all nights, but Greg had no choice. It was police prelature for a cop to be around a C.S.I at all times.

The cop rolled his eyes as Greg walked up to him." Well well well… look at what we have here, If it ant the lab rat turned field mouse'' snickered the cop. Greg gave the cop a cold glare.

" Shut up Davis" Huffed Greg.

" Make me Sanders" Davis grinned as he spoke. Davis knew what would tick Greg off, and he loved to push his buttons.

"Lets just get to work and leave Davis. Is the scene clear?" asked Greg, clearly annoyed. Davis rolled his eyes at Greg's statement, but answered.

"What do you think Sanders?" Davis smirked, knowing that it irked Greg.

Greg followed officer Davis into the house. It was dark and dingy looking, yet very uninviting at the same time. A cold chill ran up and down Greg's spine, making all his already spiky hair stand on end. Officer Davis led Greg to the room where the supposed body of a female dancer laid. Greg looked around, slightly confused, then looked backward at Davis.

"Where is the body at?" Greg asked. Officer Davis walked up next to him, rolling his eyes once again.

"Don't be naive, Sanders. The corrinor has been here and gone—with the body. You took so long that you missed it." Davis snorted as he walked past Greg to the door way. Greg rolled his eyes at the retreating figure of Officer Davis and shrugged it off. Taking a step forward, Greg pulled out his latex gloves and slipped them on.

"I'll be back." said officer Davis. About half an hour later, Davis was pretending to be bored. Davis walked out of the room, without hesitation or any response from Greg. Greg stood there, looking at the direction of Davis and rolled his eyes, as he mumbled under his breath. Five minutes later, Greg heard something, but looked around. He saw nothing, so he shrugged off the noise and went back to work. A few seconds later, he heard another loud sound. Before he had the chance to turn around, Greg felt a sharp stinging sensation from the back of his head. The last thing Greg remembered was falling to the ground, and feeling someone grab his vest, then everything went black.

Roughly an hour later, Greg's eyes fluttered open as he regained conscientiousness. The sharp pains in his head were significantly greater then before, as blood dripped from his wounded head, down his neck and back. His vision was blurry at first. Before he could see anything, his eyes had to get adjusted to the pale, dingy lighting which he was barely able to see anything, even himself. After a few moments, Greg's eyes adjusted enough to see the room. The only furniture in the room was two chairs, one of which he was bound to, and a hanging lamp overhead. The smell of dust and ding entered his nose making him cough roughly, which caused more pain in his head and neck. The room was small, and the walls were concrete, with blood stains and paint chipping off to cover various blood spatterings. His eyes went wide in shock and horror, as his mind raced, as visions of his fate may have in store for him.

Greg's head jerked to the side as the sound of an opening door came from behind him. Footsteps echoed through the empty and stale air. To his horror, there stood Officer Davis, with a sick and twisted grin on his face. Greg's mind couldn't register all this at once as he saw Davis carrying a bloody baseball bat. The C.S.I. part in Greg immediately knew that it was the weapon that was used to knock Greg out, and his blood laid on the end. Officer Davis leaned down, eye level t0o Greg, holding the same menacing grin on his face.

"Well.. Well.. Well… Look who we have here. If it isn't little Sanders?!" Davis smirked at the wounded C.S.I. as he slapped him across the face. Davis stood straight and grabbed the other chair in the room and sat it in front of Greg, sitting on it. Greg's eyes searched the ground and then made their way up to the chair and officer Davis's face. Greg quickly looked away from his face, not wanting to look at the person causing him so much harm and pain.

"W..Why.. are you…. doing this…? " Greg whimpered, mustering up all his strength just to speak. He felt weak, and the continuous, yet slow, dripping of his blood made him realize how badly he was injured. The thoughts of the size of his wound just made him dizzy to think about, so he shook it off lightly and focused on officer Davis.

"Aw Greggy.. Don't be scared. This is where all my victims meet their timely end." Davis smirked, leaning back in his chair. His eyes never left Greg; he was watching for a weakness, something that he could use against Greg. Greg began to shake, feeling the deathly glare of Davis on him. Greg's eyes went wide as his mind went through endless situations of what might happen to him. Officer Davis laughed loudly, making his booming voice echo through the small basement like room. "Remember a few month ago, when the whole team was doing their best to figure out those cases? I forget.. was it.. 'The.." Greg lifted his head, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"The Las Vegas Hacker!" Greg cried out, remembering exactly what he did to his victims. Hot tears stung the edges of Greg's eyes. "He beat and tortured dozens of female dancers and then cut them up after raping them." Greg suddenly found it harder to breath in the degrading air around him. His chest lifted and sunk more and more with each breath. "W-What do you want with me?" Greg asked through heavy sobs. "All the victims were female.. Why me?" Greg whimpered softly. His eyes were glued to the floor as photographs from the various crime scenes flashed through his mind, causing him to cry more.

"Greg don't cry," Davis rolled his eyes, landing a punch in Greg's side, knocking the wind out of Greg. "You were always such a wuss. I don't see what everyone sees in a lab rat like you." Davis rolled his eyes, but held up his hands defensively. "Sorry, I mean field mouse." With that he took out a knife, and quickly jabbed into Greg's left arm. This caused Greg to crush his eyes shut and cry out loudly in pain. His cries and screams bounced off the walls and back into officer Davis's ears. Hearing his pleads, Davis back hand slapped Greg across the face, causing blood to spill from his lips and onto the floor and nearby walls. "Grow up Sanders." Davis stood up, gripping Greg's shirt in his hands. "Stop being the little baby, the one everyone puts on a high level. Everyone loves you, bragging about you, talking about you nonstop." Davis shook Greg violently, causing Greg to sob and whimper more and almost passing out. "I'm tired of it. Just plain sick of it. Now, its time for my turn in the limelight. Throughout my life, their were 299 females that I've disposed of. But.. you and I.. we will go down in infamy. You.. you're going to be my 300th victim. The lone male." Davis smirked, removing the knife from Greg's arm.

Whimpering, Greg's mind went through all the case files on all the girls who were killed, raped and assaulted. A small blood puddle formed at the back of Greg's chair. His head slumped slightly as his eyes began to flutter. Davis snorted a laugh as Greg felt the rope loosen around his limp body. Greg looked at the silhouette of his captor as Greg was lifted from the chair. His body went limp as the familiar darkness surrounded him once more.

Greg drifted in and out of consciousness. All he could remember was he was laying on a bed. Their was a tight feeling of being bound at his wrists and ankles. Being weak, his eyes rolled back in his head as he heard Davis's booming footsteps and the sound of cloth hitting the hardwood floor. Greg knew what would happen next, so he didn't fight the urge to pass out this time. Instead he let the darkness provide him a temporary peaceful escape from the harsh reality occurring around him.

A dull noise crawled into Greg's ears. It was oddly familiar but still horrifying at the same time. His eyes shut open as he recognized the sound of a chainsaw. He was laying on the ground of the basement like room. Davis revved the chainsaw before putting it to the ground. His eyes flickered as he looked at Greg.

"Time to die Sanders." Davis laughed menacingly, stepping closer to Greg. Officer Davis picked up the chainsaw and stepped closer to Greg, who was laying limp on the ground. He smirked as he stood above Greg. Greg thought he felt his heart stop beating as Davis walked closer to him, feeling like everything was in slow motion.

As Davis put the chainsaw near Greg's shoulder, a familiar rumbling came in the distance. The all to familiar sound of police cars pulled up outside. Davis looked around, hearing the sirens and cars parking outside. Car doors slammed open and shut, causing Davis to drop the chainsaw, making it land inches away from his face and shoulder. Officer Davis sprinted for the door and left Greg barely clinging to consciousness. The door was flung open by Davis as he ran out. The door hit the wall with a loud thud, and bounced back, slamming shut. A big struggle was heard outside of the door, but Greg was frozen in fear. The heavy door was swung open again, causing Greg to jam his hazel eyes shut, causing him to wince and cry more. He felt someone rush to his side as he opened his eyes. Greg saw a familiar face looking down at him.

"Greg… Everything is going to be alright." Nick Stokes stood over him, silently choking on sobs as he saw the sight of one of his good friends in such bad shape. "We are here… It's all over now." With the kind words, Greg managed a small smile before passing out once more.

Three months later, Greg walked into the crime lab bearing the scars of his own ordeal, making sure he would not forget what happened. It was the first time he walked inside the walls of his lab since the night of his beating. He walked into Gilbert Grissom's office, after being paged. Catherine Willows was sitting across from Gil at his desk. They turned and looked at him silently. Greg looked at them both uneasily as he stepped further into the office.

"What?" Greg looked back and forth from the two older C.S.I.s A scared and horror filled expression filled Catherine's face as Gil was looking at a small piece of paper in his hands.

"Greg… It was Officer Davis." Catherine started to say. Gil stood up from behind his desk and walked over to Greg.

"Officer Davis has escaped police custody. All that was left in his jail cell was this.." Gil handed Greg the small piece of paper. Greg quickly read the note and looked back up at Catherine and Gil. His face went pale as he looked back at the note that read, "I will not rest until Sanders is DEAD."

THE END


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